Zoro's Diary
by MerryAnchor16
Summary: 'Date: 22nd June. Chopper said it'd be good to keep a journal... You better fucking make it shit cook.' Sanji received a near-fatal shot and has ended up in a coma and Zoro?... Zoro's not doing too well. Eventual Zoro x Sanji. Short drabbles of Zoro's diary entries. I am taking prompts. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

_'Date: 22nd June_

_Chopper said it'd be good to keep a journal, write down my thoughts and all that. He said it might help, I don't see how though. I don't need help anyway. He thinks I need it, the whole crew do, but honestly I don't._

_Well maybe I do, just a little. It might be good to vent for once without having to find someone to vent to._

_You know who I blame for this?_

_The fucking shit cook. Went and got himself a bullet to the head. A goddamn lucky shot. And there he is in a coma I don't know if he's ever gonna wake up from or, if he does, that he's the same shitty bastard we all know. Or what if he's lost the ability to move his body? I don't know. I find myself asking all these questions and these 'what ifs' and all I'm doing is chasing circles in my mind. I should ask Chopper if I want an answer to them but I guess-'_

Zoro knotted the fingers of his left hand tighter in his hair and sighed, the quill hovering over the light brown paper of the bound book. What did he guess? Was he worried? Angry? Nervous? Or was he scared? Scared that if he asked the doctor what was happening that it wouldn't be the answer he wanted. If Sanji wasn't Sanji anymore or lost control of his body or... Or- goddamit- if he... If he died... What would happen then? What would Zoro do? The swordsman let out a scarcely contained growl of frustration as a particularly violent tremor ran through his hand, making the ink on the end of the quill spatter little splats on the page. He had half a mind to slam the crappy book shut and fling it overboard but now that he'd started, the words were becoming a little too hard to stop.

So, not finishing his previous sentence, he took up a new line with a fresh dose of ink.

_'You better fucking make it shit cook._

_Don't just fucking lie there- you better make it. You gotta make it. You will make it-'_

The last word trailed off on a dark, scraggly line and Zoro threw the offending quill away from him, just managing to miss the bottle of ink on the tabletop. Damn his stupid fucking hands! He glared at them as if that would stop them from trembling in sharp, jerky spasms and when they didn't obey him, he slammed the journal before him shut and stuffed it into the folds of his red sash before getting to his feet and storming away from Chopper's desk and the Infirmary with a louder than necessary bang of the door.

Leaving sleeping blonde on the bed to listen to the blip of his own heart alone.

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**AN: I made myself absolutely miserable whilst writing this, but I love writing angst :/ I hope you all liked it anyway and there will be more- hopefully. These will just be drabbles of Zoro's diary entries following this small storyline. I am taking prompts for this as well.**


	2. Chapter 2

_'Date: 25th June  
Days shitty cook has been asleep: 12_

_I've noticed it's quieter. A lot quieter without him. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I guess we spent so much time arguing that there was barely anytime for some real peace between us. The rest of the crew are still just as damned noisy, Luffy is still running about nearly drowning every two seconds and I think if he does it again Usopp will refuse to help him, and life is pretty much going on as normal. Well, as normal as it can go on._

_They've all noticed it too, I think. The moments where it all falls a little too quiet and I don't think Nami's forced smiles and shouts to play a game are gonna cut it anymore. Not for me anyway.'_

Zoro bit his bottom lip, the nib of the quill hovering poised and ready over the sheet of paper. He tipped his head back, running a hand through choppy green hair and his earrings chimed just loud enough to be heard over the beeping of the cardiograph attached to the cook's chest.

Zoro looked up at the blonde, the small gap between them from the bed to the table suddenly seemed an incredibly long distance. He watched the high rise and deep fall of Sanji's ribcage and trailed his one good eye up to the cause of the blonde's coma.

Thick bandages, an almost blinding white, covered the right side of his face, wrapping protectively over and around his eye socket where Zoro knew the worst of the damage lay, and snaked over his ear where the once long side bang of his fringe had been shaved away by Robin's careful hand.

Zoro, forcibly, dragged his gaze away and looked briefly at the door to make sure Chopper wasn't going to enter the Infirmary unannounced before scribbling down in his gruff scrawl of a font.

_'I can't sleep-'_

Zoro shook his head to himself and crossed that out with more anger than he intended.

_'It's my fault he-'_

Zoro crossed that out again, blotting out all the words this time with more ink than necessary. He found himself getting wound up again, unable to form coherent sentences from his thoughts. Whatever he put was far too personal- some things were just better off in his head.

"It's a journal, it's meant to be personal!" Chopper had said, clinging on to Zoro's arm with tiny hooves to stop the swordsman from throwing the book into the waves below. Zoro had mumbled a reluctant agreement, opting not to scrap it to stop the little doctor from crying, "I know Sanji is sick, but you'll get sick too if you don't try!" The reindeer had wailed, the words had done nothing except hurt Zoro's pride but the swordsman refrained from lashing out.

Now though, looking back on it, heating anger flared through him again and he found his hands shaking in that stupid way they had done since the shitty cook fell into his stupid coma. He scowled at the page, barely putting in any thought before chiseling into the paper, his letters leaving indents in the pages underneath.

_'They think I'm sad but I'm not. I'M NOT. I'm angry. They don't know what it feels like. This is my fault. My fault the stupid shithead got half of his face blown away and-'_

"And..." Zoro spat through gritted teeth as he lifted the poor abused quill away from the mess of words beneath it, "And..."

He growled deeply, this was the whole fucking reason he wanted to stop writing in this crappy book. It made him angry. And the angrier he got, the harder it was to restrain himself from punching something. If the cook was here then he'd be able to start up a whole fight with him to-

Zoro barely contained the noise as he screamed internally. The third-rate cook wasn't here and, if he got unlucky, then he never would be again.

The swordsman shoved the book away from him before he tore it to shreds and shoved his head into his hands, burying his face in his palms.

God, what the Hell was wrong with him?!

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**AN: Gah. So much angst. Thanks to all the followers and the lovely review! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

_'Date: 26th June_

_Days shitty cook has been asleep: 13_

_I have this reoccurring dream. Nightmare, actually. It's not particularly terrifying. No monsters or thugs or things that go bump in the night. It starts with the crew._

_At least, I think it's the crew. I can't see them._

_It's always dark. Not that nice, comforting dark, like it gets in the sleeping quarters of the Sunny, but a haunting, chilling-through-to-the-bone kind of blackness that seems to consume all it can take. I can hear them all. Luffy, Chopper and Usopp laughing. Franky and Brook talking. Nami and Robin giggling. But it's like I'm hearing from so very far away and when I try to open my eye I can't. It's like it's stuck fast._

_And it's in this darkness I stay. I can't tell if I'm hovering or sinking or lying down. It's a nauseating feeling actually._

_The crew carry on without me. Not noticing I'm not there, that I'm trapped in this so very weird bleak world of nothingness. They carry on laughing, cheering, singing and just being them. I find I miss them a lot but I know I haven't been gone long from them so there is no real reason to feel so detatched but I still do. And then, to top the strangeness of this blindness, nasty whiny sounds come screaming down my ears and, before I know it the sky is up above me in the lines of a rectangle. A rectangle I am lying down in. It's not until the first few specks of dirt fall that I realise that, oh God, this is a grave._

_I try to move but something strong keeps pulling me back in, holding me to the earth with an invisible hand. The earth is piling up and I'm panicking. I can't breathe._

_And then the worst part happens._

_Sanji appears from the foot of the grave I'm trapped in. I call out to him, trying to put out a hand for him to grab. He knows I'm still alive, I can see it in his face._

_But then he leans down, looking right at me. And, shitting hell, it's awful._

_His fringe is all hacked back and off his face, revealing the grim state of his right eye or, rather, where his right eye used to be. The wound is still raw and open and it's easy to see how much damage the bullet wreaked on the cook's face. Blood is pouring like tears down his face and it drips into the grave, all over my face and I'm calling out to him, trying to let him know he can't bury me- I'm still alive, dammit!_

_Then he smiles at me. He smiles and says in too many voices to truly be his own, "Goodnight, Marimo."_

_And, before I can stop him, he's throwing dirt onto my face, blocking out the last of the light and it sinks into my mouth, choking me, stealing the last of my air and the cook's laughter is the last thing I hear before I wake up, cold and sweating._

_I haven't slept properly since that dream started becoming a usual thing.'_

Zoro pulled the book shut and, tucking it into his haramaki, blew out the candle he'd lit next to his bed. He placed the quill next to the candle holder and sat on the floor beside the small crate, opting not to go to sleep. All around him, the snores of Franky, Usopp and Luffy roared. Brook was on watch and Chopper was with the cook for a routine night blood pressure and vitals check.

Zoro groaned inwardly and leaned back against the wall behind him, arm pulled in over his stomach and resting protectively on the hardness of the concealed journal. He looked at the ceiling above him with an empty stare, not wanting to risk sleep on the chance he'd dream.

Another sleepless night it was.

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**AN: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and follows/favourites! : ) If there is anything you'd like Zoro to write in his future journal entries then please leave an idea in the reviews! Or PM me or leave me a prompt on Tumblr. My url is 'mustangisinflames' and I'm also taking prompts for oneshots etc. : )**

**Hope you liked it and see you next time!**


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